


Pumping Blood

by Ike



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Choking, Face-Fucking, Kinktober 2016, Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, Rough Oral Sex, also i rotated the bench for the sake of convenience please forgive me, i have no explanation for this just take it, uhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 06:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11549418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ike/pseuds/Ike
Summary: "It’s like there was a light bulb inside his head, powered by the movement of his muscles, and the moment he stopped, that light went out and the shadows took over his mind. No, right now boredom was the biggest threat to Mike, not the dangers of bottling his emotions. And he’d welcome any distraction to prevent that boredom from setting in."Or, Andrew shows up in Mike's doorway unannounced, and the situation escalates.





	Pumping Blood

**Author's Note:**

> *tosses somewhat au, possibly ooc rarepair pwp for a dead fandom into the void* enjoy

Upon returning from lacrosse practice, the first thing Mike did was recline along his weight bench, lowering himself onto the headrest and gripping the bar. He knew this was the _last_ thing he should be doing—he should be in the shower, relaxing after practice, processing his emotions, or at least putting on a clean pair of clothes—but right now, he didn’t want to give his mind pause to face his demons. If he kept himself busy, they could be kept at bay. It’s like there was a light bulb inside his head, powered by the movement of his muscles, and the moment he stopped, that light went out and the shadows took over his mind.

No, right now boredom was the biggest threat to Mike, not the dangers of bottling his emotions. And he’d welcome any distraction to prevent that boredom from setting in. But he was short on friends these days, so he had to make his own distractions; lifting the weights up and down, then back up and back down again. Focusing on the repetition, instead of on the phantom sting in his eye when he remembers how painful it was coming clean to his sister; telling her what really happened to Mona, whose blood he was actually hiding.

That was the dreadful evening he’d resigned himself to, until a voice called from his doorway, “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He was faced away from the intruder, but he immediately recognized him as Andrew Campbell. Who was, at least out of the usual suspects, the last person he expected to show up in his room unannounced. He thought the poor guy was frightened by him after his recent outbursts, and he couldn’t blame him.

The irritation Mike felt at his invasion was rather strong, but it was secondary to his curiosity. ‘Fond’ wasn’t exactly the word he’d use to describe how he felt about the guy warming up to his sister, but he’d recently started doubting how much longer working out could keep his mind off things, so he decided not to throw him out on his ass for the time being.

“And what is it I’m supposed to be thanking you for?” Mike asked, not bothering to cease his reps.

Andrew stalked over to the foot of the bench so he was facing Mike directly, and his gaze traveled to the weights. “For fixing your bench.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he said, puzzled, and a little agitated by the blond’s arrogance.

He chuckled, “Famous last words.”

Mike narrowed his eyes, still lifting the weights. “I have a lot more stamina than patience, Campbell. You wanna explain what you’re doing in my room, _right now_? How’d you even get in my house?”

Andrew was unperturbed by the other’s passive aggression. “Your bench,” he patted it, “collapsed the other day when your sister was standing on it. Gave her a nice little sprain.”

Mike had finished a set, so he placed the weights upon the rack and looked at Andrew to continue (although he refused to sit up properly).

“Even more troubling, I found a mismatched nut and bolt. If I hadn’t caught that, you might not be alive right now, like I was telling Aria. That hit her even worse than the sprain.”

There was a moment of silence between the two as Mike froze up. He knew exactly what those words meant: A. The silence continued for several tense moments until Mike resumed lifting.

“Aria was worried, so she asked me to come check up on you, make sure you’re okay. Gave me a key,” Andrew explained. “So that,” he continued, “is what you’re thanking me for.”

Mike laughed dryly. “Still haven’t said the words.”

“Maybe because you haven’t realized just how much trouble you were in.”

Unfortunately, Mike had.

Andrew walked from the foot of the bench to the other side, and placed his hands next to Mike’s on the bar. He guided it down to the other’s chest, placing a heavy pressure on him. “These weights would’ve crushed your lungs… Just. Like. _This_. Imagine them collapsing, knocking the wind right out of you. Pretty scary, huh?”

Scary indeed, Mike thought, but more so about Andrew than the weights. The air was starting to leave his lungs, but he was too confused by what was going on to react.

Sensing he was short on breath, Andrew lifted the bar back up onto its rack and tried to lighten the mood, “If you wanted a weight on top of you, you could’ve just asked me, you know.”

Mike blinked. Is that why he was acting so weird? This was his bizarre, vaguely menacing way of flirting?

“Who says that’s what I want?” Mike asked.

“I can tell it is.”

“Maybe I don’t know what I want.” Those words were a clear challenge, a message to Andrew—a message he promptly received.

“Maybe I need to show you then.”

With those words, all subtext was out the window. Now would be the perfect time to stop this before it went any further, but Mike didn’t want to. He felt alone, and he missed the touch of another human, and he didn’t know what to do to make those feelings go away—and right here was this six-foot-two answer to all his questions, so he’d be a fool to turn him away (despite the spontaneity of it all, and the way he was betraying his dedication to brooding 24/7 post-Vanderwaal for a boy he hardly knew).

Before he could get a grasp of the situation, Andrew was standing above him with his legs spread to accommodate for the boy between them, pulling his gym shorts underneath his balls and freeing his cock, which Mike quickly found in his mouth. He was already past the point of caring, so he wasted no time arching his neck, trying to swallow more. But the position he was in left little room to maneuver, meaning all the power was in the other’s hands.

Thankfully Andrew realized this, and began slowly, shallowly thrusting, taking some of the burden off the other. He was careful to give him time to adjust to his hardening member before trying anything, so he was content to go hands-free until he was all the way ready. But with the mouth of Aria’s younger brother around him, it didn’t take long for him to get fully hard—and to get more aggressive.

Mike was a little surprised when a strong hand found its way into his hair and gripped it, giving the older boy leverage to go even deeper. He had been holding his own pretty well (it wasn’t like this was the first time he’d done this, after all), but he found himself starting to sputter and needing to break for air as the cock slid faster in and out of his throat. The moment he’d seemed to recover, though, it was being pressed right back in, that hand still gripping his hair and urging more in.

As bad as it was, Andrew couldn’t be made to feel guilty about Mike’s difficulties. In fact, it made him even harder, made him want this even more. He wouldn’t hurt him or anything—a little choking wouldn’t do that. And he hadn’t heard any complaints when he’d started to be more forceful, so he took that as leave to up the stakes. He pulled out of Mike’s mouth, replacing his shaft with his balls and giving him some time to relax as he peeled off his polyester shirt that was starting to build up sweat.

Mike looked up as he eagerly sucked and lapped at Andrew’s balls to see him undressing. He was impressed, to say the least; he expected him, being on the Decathlon team, to be more modestly built, but there was nothing modest about his muscles. Once the shirt had been cast off to a corner of the room, the blond’s balls left the warm embrace of his mouth and Andrew inched closer, placing both hands on his head now and beginning to fuck his throat properly.

Caught off guard, Mike began to gag and choke, but Andrew didn’t care. He held the boy down until he thought he couldn’t handle any more and released him, looking down into his eyes for confirmation that it was okay. Tears were forming on his waterline, and his lips had started to swell, but Mike nodded his consent, a daredevil look in his eyes. Andrew hoped that look was earnest as he slid his shorts and underwear down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his socks and sneakers as he circled around the bench. He positioned himself directly above Mike’s face and braced himself on the bar before he once again started face-fucking him mercilessly, taking full advantage of his mouth.

Mike approved of this new set-up, and he had to fight the urge to let slip a low, needy moan around Andrew’s cock. Despite that, he was struggling to take it all, so he had to adjust his angle, curling himself so he was half sitting up. It wasn’t the most comfortable position for his neck, but with the way Andrew’s cock hung downwards, it allowed it to slide in and out easier. And it seemed to work for Andrew, as evidenced by the string of curses that escaped him and the whitening of his knuckles as they tightened around the bar.

They had finally reached a point where Mike was able to consistently deepthroat him, his balls pressing against his chin with almost every thrust of Andrew’s hips. It quickly began to set him over the edge, and he groaned what sounded like “fuck” as he took one hand off the bar and placed it around Mike’s neck, lightly choking him as he continued to fuck his face. Mike sputtered, but he looked up into Andrew’s eyes with reassurance, encouraging him further. After briefly withdrawing himself so Mike could catch his breath, he went right back in, and his grip tightened further. With his hand around Mike’s throat, he could feel his own cock moving back and forth, and he started losing control of his grunts and moans as he thrusted with abandon, only releasing his chokehold when absolutely necessary.

The sensations overwhelmed Mike—he was constantly running out of air, and it was even a little painful at times, but the pleasure far outweighed any protests he had. He hadn’t thought for a second he’d ever do something like this with Andrew Campbell, and even if he had known he would, he never would have guessed that the normally polite, timid even, upperclassman would take control and use him like that. He had heard it was always the quiet ones, but he never believed that until right now, witnessing Andrew’s dominance. He briefly considered that maybe there were some people he owed a second glance, but was immediately pulled from his thoughts by the obscene panting, sweating boy above him—who he could tell wouldn’t last much longer.

And shortly after, his thoughts were confirmed.

Andrew steadied his voice long enough to say, “I’m gonna cum, Mike.”

And to his surprise, Mike didn’t pull away, only relaxed his throat so he could take Andrew’s cock even better than he already was. That was the only permission Andrew needed, and within moments, he was releasing down the boy’s throat, his orgasm spilling out and overflowing, cum dribbling out of Mike’s mouth and down his chin.

Andrew pulled out with a content, but exhausted sigh as Mike wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and dried it on his shorts.

“You’re a lot better at that than I expected, Montgomery,” Andrew said, stepping into his underwear.

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do, then,” he smirked.

Andrew chuckled. “Maybe I don’t,” he said, locating his shirt on top of a chair and pulling it over his head. “But I’d like to.” Mike had stood up by this point and was leaning against a wall, so Andrew walked over and cupped his ass, adding, “Maybe I can repay the favor.”

Mike scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”

Andrew grinned. “Later,” he waved, already halfway out the room.

The corners of Mike’s lips formed a small smile as he watched the blond leave. When the sound of footsteps ceased and he heard the front door close, he sighed and collapsed on his bench, deciding it was best to finish his workout for the day. But before he could even do a single rep, he realized the aching hardness in his shorts wouldn’t go away until he did something about it. Defeated, he slipped a hand beneath his waistband, images of Andrew fresh in his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> btw the prompt was supposed to be asphyxiation (day 9) in case you were wondering why mike got like an ounce of air throughout the whole fic *jazz hands away technical inaccuracies and lack of realism*


End file.
